Billy came into the kitchen then and slid onto the stool across from me. He looked worse than I felt with bags under his eyes big enough for pocket change.
"Billy's going to show you around," Sly said. "I'd do it myself but I've got a few meetings I have to take that won't keep. We'll catch up later this afternoon though."
"Sounds good," I said. And it did. But a look passed between Billy and Sly. It could be nothing. It probably was. I'd been out of the club loop for so long by necessity and my choice. It was no good for me to be too connected to club business while I was inside. It would have made me a further target of federal investigation. It would have opened me up to suspicion from other chapters. I would never be a rat. I would have died first. But there were plenty of people in other chapters and other groups that would have assumed I had something to do with it if any shit landed on them. Ignorance offered the best protection for everyone involved.
Now though, I couldn't deny it chaffed me. A lot. These were my friends, my brothers. I'd be no good to any of them now if I didn't have my eyes open. I meant to press Sly on it later. We both knew he and I were going to have to sit down and have a real talk soon.
"Then let's get going," Billy said, snapping me out of my head. "Sun's shining, not a cloud in the sky. Let's ride."
Those two words sounded like heaven and it was enough to chase away whatever funk I'd felt. I got up and slapped Billy on the back. Wherever we were going, I kind of hoped it would take us a while to get there.
"Talk later?" I said to Sly. Never mind the time apart, we could pick up right where we left off. It took only a look from me and Sly knew what was on my mind. He set his mouth into a hard line and gave a forceful nod. Yeah. We were on the same page all right.
We rode for an hour. Not because it took that long to get there, but because Billy understood my need to ride. We hit the highway looping around Green Bluff, circled the foothills of Mount Shasta and swung back near the cliffs. Our destination was only ten miles from the Den but I was grateful for the clarity the smooth ride and open air gave me.
I pulled up alongside Billy and he pointed to the nearest exit. A large lit sign rose over the rest of the smaller buildings along the industrial parkway. Great Wolves Gym. I smiled ... GWG. The gym itself was a huge complex stretching over several acres. We roared into the parking lot. I cut my engine and peeled off my helmet. Billy slammed down his kickstand and we walked in together.
My mouth dropped open when I saw it. GWG was a state-of-the-art sports complex in a converted warehouse. The entire first floor was an open rectangle with boxing rings and octagons taking up one third, weights and equipment in the center, an Olympic-sized pool and a track running around the whole thing. On the far wall, in giant black-and-red paint, was the Great Wolves M.C. logo.
Billy slapped me on the back. "Times are changing, Dex."
"I guess so." A catwalk surrounded the second floor of the complex and behind that was a wall of glass block windows and what looked like office space.
"You're in the corporate headquarters of the Great Wolves Gym, Dex. We have eight locations between here and the east coast. Small industrial towns, just like Green Bluff where it all started. Places hit hardest by the car industry crash after '08. Most of our locations are converted warehouses or factory buildings like this."
I was speechless. A knot formed in my throat. It was just like Sly and I had talked about all those years ago before everything turned to shit for me. We wanted to take back our town. We wanted to give something back instead of taking away and making things worse, which was where things were headed before Blackie died.
"How many jobs?" I turned to Billy.
Billy smiled. "I don't know exactly. Sly can run the numbers with you. We're one of the biggest training facilities for professional fighters in the country. We've sponsored two 21st Century Fighting League champions in the last four years."
I looked back toward the rings. Two young kids, probably no more than twenty, sparred hard, their trainers keeping a watchful eye and shouting out pointers. I guessed the smaller of the two had to be a wrestler. He moved like one, keeping his center of gravity low, his movements cautious and compact. When his opponent lunged for him, the kid dove for his legs; quick and hard he flipped him to his back. With a shout from their trainers, the two sprung back up and started again from their ready positions.
"Is this where we're making most of our money?"
Billy cocked his head. "We're diversified. This is a big chunk of it, yes. Sly wants to sit down and talk details with you. He thought this place might leave the biggest impact on you."
He wasn't wrong. We'd talked about opening a gym, years ago. But I'd never envisioned the scope that Billy was describing. Or this place. I walked away from Billy trying to let my mind take it in. I ran my hand along the nearest weight bench. One of the young fighters from the ring-the shooter-had finished up. He walked past me and jerked his chin down. A sign of respect. He didn't know me but I wore my cut; he knew I was a Great Wolf. I put my hand out. He took it and shook it hard.
"Good match out there," I said. "What's your name, kid?"
"Franco, sir. Pete Franco."
Billy chuckled beside me. "We call him Chicken Hawk."
The kid smiled wide and nodded. I raised a brow at Billy.
"You know, like the old cartoon. The little guy who everyone thinks is too small to do any damage to the rooster. Then he comes in and flattens him."
Franco smiled. If the name bothered him, he didn't show it.
"Well, I don't know about the nickname, kid. But you've got some real promise, I'd guess. I wouldn't mind coming back later and working out with you."
The kid smiled wide. "Any time. Thank you, sir," he answered. Sir. The GWMC had been respected in this town, sure. But most of that had always stemmed from fear. This felt different. Eight years. It had only been eight years since Sly took over the club. I didn't understand yet how he did it, but he'd transformed this club-this town-into something very different from what I'd left behind. I felt a strange mixture of pride and grief. Sly was my brother in every way that mattered. We'd kill for each other and that hadn't changed. And yet, I knew it was going to take a long time before I could figure out exactly how I fit into this new regime.
"Come on," Billy said. "We have a few more stops planned."
I smiled and took one last look out at the floor of the gym. I felt something simmer inside me, like a hum. My heart quickened with an emotion I hadn't really felt in so long it's no wonder I didn't recognize it for what it was at first. It was hope. Hope and excitement. Sly had started something here. Something I wanted desperately to be a part of. I couldn't wait to get back to the clubhouse to sit down and talk specifics.
I headed out to the parking lot and turned when Billy called. "I'll meet you out there in a second, Dex." I gave him a thumbs up and headed for my bike.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket and I took it out. The caller ID came up blocked but I answered anyway. At the moment, I only had three contacts on the thing: Sly, Tora and Charlie.
"Dex," I answered.
"Declan, good to hear your voice."
My blood ran cold. I could have asked him how he got this number, I'd only had it for a few days. I could have asked him what the hell he wanted but I already knew.
"Pagano," I said, the name tasting bitter in my mouth.
"I just wanted to personally congratulate you on your good fortune. I hope you're enjoying the sunlight on your face again."
"I'm sure you are."
He let the silence settle. I thought about hanging up on the bastard but something made me keep him on the line. He could bluster all he wanted, but I could hear the falter in his breathing. He wanted me to know he could still get to me.
"Then I won't keep you. I just thought it would be a good idea to personally reach out to you. You've been gone a long time. We still have mutual interests. I wouldn't want anything to get in the way of that."
Mutual interests? What the fuck was he talking about?
"Go to hell, George," I said. "You want some kind of assurance from me that I'm not going to fuck with you? How about you quit trying to fuck with me?"
"Declan, you can be sure if I wanted to fuck with you, you'd know it."
Ah. There he was. Pagano's voice dripped with hatred and I knew he was more than a little scared of me. I knew things about him. The threat of spilling them had been one of the things that had kept me protected on the inside. He had to be worried I'd try to make a move on him now. He was dead wrong though.
I clicked the "end" button before he could say another word. I'd heard all I needed to. It didn't mean the call hadn't rattled me. Pagano wanted to make it loud and clear that he could get to me or the club. Sly needed to know. He also needed to know I would never let that asshole put me or anyone I cared about in jeopardy again. I had no interest in sending George Pagano to prison. No. I'd rather just send him to hell.
Chapter Four
Billy and I rode through town for most of the rest of the afternoon. Green Bluff too had undergone a transformation in the dozen-plus years since I'd seen it. The outskirts of the town stayed the same. It was mostly rural with sweeping hills surrounding swaths of flatlands dotted with cattle and tumbleweeds. While the town center was still quaint and filled with mom and pop shops, it had also grown. We had a Starbucks and a couple of fast-food chains now too. The architecture of the latter had been designed to blend in with the existing brick and stucco buildings built more than a hundred years ago.